


You're Crampin' My Style

by JupiterJoon



Series: Sexploration [4]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: F/M, Hoseok returns as our light-hearted salesclerk, Hospitalization, Painful Sex, Sex Education, Smut, Vaginal Sex, light humor, like at the emergency room, sexual enhancers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:53:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28621362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JupiterJoon/pseuds/JupiterJoon
Summary: With stress and busy schedules weighing down your libidos, you and Namjoon decide to spice things up by trying organic supplements. They work so well that it gets a bit too spicy.
Relationships: Kim Namjoon | RM/Reader, Kim Namjoon | RM/You
Series: Sexploration [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557514
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	You're Crampin' My Style

**Author's Note:**

> This is a cautionary tale based on a true story that we used to tell clients who seemed too careless. Please read and review any product that you put in your body!

“Hey, I know a solution for you and Namjoon’s little  _ problem _ ,” Katie, your office mate, says as you plead with the break room copier for the third time that day.

Her words drag you from your predicament, giving the hood an annoyed smack before launching to your feet in an instant, eyes darting to the open door before smacking her arm in the same way. “What did I tell you about talking about that stuff at work?”

“What?” Katie shrugs with an eye roll as she heads out with reheated coffee for your team. “Like you haven’t dished drama in the break room. Oh no, you are dating the hottest copywriter in the department, oh~”

You sigh, dragging your work-wife back into the copy room to clarify, “You know that’s not what I mean. The Karens are looking for gossip about us at every corner. Me plus Namjoon plus issue is just a rumor waiting to happen.”

Katie raises her coffee-filled hands in defeat. “Well, wowie, here I was with some advice to help your… whatever, and this is the treatment I get.”

You roll your eyes this time, kicking the copier and finally getting it to turn on. “Okay, okay. Thank you, my lovely, lovely work-wife, for thinking of me.”

Katie smiles proudly, leaning her hip into the copier and you hiss at the thought of it jamming again. Everything’s been shutting down on you lately. Once the stacks of numbers file out the top, you grab the stapler and nudge your head to Katie in the direction of your cluster of cubicles. “What great advice have you scored?”

Katie immediately lights up at that, whipping her phone out as you head back to your desks. She’s typing and scrolling and rambling to herself. You smile at Logan who gives a small nod at the coffee set before her, focused on fiddling with her dreadlocks until break ends.

Plopping into your seats and spinning to roll over, Katie turns the phone to you. “Okay, so I know you think influencers are just, you know--”

“Talking shit because they are getting paid,” Logan, your last team member, fills in without looking up from the pocket mirror on her desk as she threads blue string into her hair. You snort, but Katie is undeterred.

“But this one is, like, for  _ real _ . Even Cardi B talked about it!” Katie waves the phone in Logan’s direction who is rightfully uninterested.

“Oh god,” you groan. “What on earth are you about to show me? Is this even safe to view on the office wifi?”

“Oh shut it,” Katie jabs. “It’s on Youtube. They’ll never know.”

Logan sighs, closing her compact mirror and turning in her chair to join the conversation, the thought of undermining the company in the slightest way being of interest to her. “That’s a no then.”

With an impish giggle, Katie turns the volume down as soon as a Youtuber’s voice booms, “HI! WELCOME TO-“

As you finish stacking the unnecessary number of copies, you scooch over to sit next to her, all three of you holding the phone close as the video starts up, titled  _ Pink Pussy Cat Review _ .

“What?” you ask.

Logan crosses her arms. “Oh lord, I’ve seen this, it’s that--”

“Shhh! Just fucking watch it!” Katie quips. So you do. It’s some kind of review, obviously, and the girl seems to be really going in on it. Granted, this could be how she talks about  _ everything _ . You’ve seen how your cousin talks about CUTCO knives. But as she discusses it, she’s talking about the ingredients, giving a real breakdown. Next, she’s talking about what happened.

What?

“Is this a sex pill?” you whisper-shout, covering the screen as the girl starts to make lewd faces to express her utter enjoyment. Logan cackles delightfully, checking over her shoulder for the three of you.

“Shut up and watch!” is all Katie says, smiling down at the video. So you do — why not?

The girl starts to give a detailed description of how this  _ Pink Pussy Cat _ made her pussy purr. Wow, bad pun. But she seems to be really gunho. She’s describing the sensations in a way that makes you think this might actually be lowkey ecstasy. Just as you are starting to think it’s a paid promotion, she goes into the side effects, which are actually quite honest. She talks about an intense headache she got after the first use and some other things to watch out with for blood pressure and hormone treatment. The video ends with a cheery request/plead to like and subscribe, then she’s gone.

“Well?” Katie asks, muting her screen and pocketing the phone.

“Well?” you ask back. “Katie, what the hell did you just show me?”

“Your answer, dumbass!” She sasses. To your surprise, Logan nods in agreement, turning back to her mirror and needle. “You and Namjoon needing, you know, zing in the bedroom?”

You scoff and slap the phone back into her waiting hands. “A sex pill? Really? Aren’t those for guys?”

Katie lets out a frustrated sigh then picks up your copies for you. She starts dividing the work amongst the three of you, a light blush coming to her cheeks as she tries to casually ask,. “Would you be less skeptical if I told you that I risked it all and took it before suggesting it to you?”

You stop pestering her uneven piles at that, and even Logan turns around with a raised eyebrow. Katie’s chair creeks awkwardly as she primly shifts her weight. Logan checks, “You did what?”

“I took one!” She says. Now, you’re intrigued. “And, girl, it was fucking  _ insane _ . I grabbed this yuppie off Hinge, you know, where they’ve got the hot bod and no brain. Well, actually, this guy wasn’t so bad, he had an okay--”

“Girl,” Logan reminds her with a rushed wave of her hand.

Katie huffs, shrugging exaggeratedly, “and it made the experience, well, it was 10/10. I swear to god, I’m going to take it every time from now on. Actually make the effort and schmoozing worth it!”

“For real?” you ask, still skeptical. “It felt that great?”

Katie nods, tossing her curls over her shoulder with pride. “I mean, I think that girl there, she’s exaggerating. But I definitely felt-“ she leans into whisper to the two of you “-horny as fuck, girls. And so fucking wet.”

Your jaw drops. Okay, maybe this is a good idea. Maybe this is what you and Namjoon needed to kick things into gear again.

The copier isn’t the only thing that’s been shutting down. Your libido has, too.

Namjoon is by far the greatest man you have and probably will ever be with. Kind yet occasionally chaotic, thoughtful but charmingly forgetful, and a broad chest and delicate hands; there is no other like him. The two of you met outside of work without realizing you worked for the same company, but that hadn’t stopped you. After a year, and even after your departments were moved to the same floor, you never regretted taking the leap with him and moving in after only six months of dating when his lease had run up.

The only problem is that you both had unhealthy habits in common. You are hard workers who are too driven. Both of you have trouble sleeping when a project is going well, just wanting to get it done. When Namjoon was promoted a few months ago, the workload only grew. Combined with your tendency to zero in on a task until it is done, unable to focus on anything else… The bedroom has been more for restless sleeping than anything else the last month or two.

Which can make it hard to get you both into the bedroom at all. Which is a real issue, since sex is a great stress reliever for the two of you. Life always works out like that, huh.

Unbeknownst to Namjoon, you’d set off to find a way to spice things up in the bedroom. You wanted something that would convince and keep both of you in the zone when you were with each other. Honestly, you are pretty sure he may be doing the same kind of research on his own, too. He’d brought toys into the bedroom which has been fun for a night or two, but when the novelty wore off, the stress crowded back into your relationship. He’s got no problem getting up, so maybe the viagra needs to flip the table.

“Okay, I’ll try it,” you decide. Katie claps her hands excitedly before you hold them in place to stop her clambering, Logan laughing instead. “Not because of your Youtuber, but because of your review. So don’t think you can rope me into those makeup reviews.”

Katie pouts, but she still seems satisfied.

“I know where you can go,” Logan mentions, pulling out her own phone. “Great little place me and my friends always go to.”

~*~*~*~*~

“This is it?” Namjoon asks, like the warm, pink lights and lingerie mannequins blocking the view weren't a giveaway.

“Mhm,” you nod, fiddling with the strap of your bag nervously. You feel a bit out of place going in your work clothes. Not that you think there’s a dress code. Namjoon seems to think the same, starting to take off his blazer before he shuffles it back in place.

“Okay then, I guess, let’s go in?”

You cock your head. “Haven’t you been to one before?”

“No?” Namjoon asks, blinking a few times.

“How did you get the toys from last month?”

“Ah,” Namjoon laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his head. “The internet.”

“Okay, well,” you take his hand. “Guess this is a new experience for both of us.”

At that, Namjoon beams, dimples showing as he nods quickly and follows you in the store. There’s a row of corsets in different patterns and dance heels covered in dazzling colors at the front, a plush red couch to your right. It’s oddly cozier and not as lewd as you expected.

When you take another step, Namjoon doesn’t move. His eyes are wide, glued to a sign. You glance over, reading the general  _ 18 and Over Only _ and  _ No Returns! _ Signs. Before you can ask, Namjoon drops your hand, quickly fumbling with his pockets and digging into his jacket.

“What did you do?” You ask, accustomed to this panic searching at this point.

Yanking out his wallet, Namjoon’s smile falls into a loose oh, eyes worried when he meets your gaze. He whispers a bit too loud, “I don’t have my ID.”

“What do you mean?”

Namjoon points not-so-discreetly at the  _ ID Required  _ underneath the age sign.

“No ID?” A chipper voice calls from around the shoe rack. You both jump as a lean frame dressed in a green track suit emerges from within the store. While a track suit should feel gimmicky, he somehow looks expensive among the racks of glamorous lingerie to your right.

“Ah, well…” Namjoon looks at you like you somehow have an answer.

“He doesn’t drive, so he doesn’t carry it often,” you explain apologetically. God, this is already failing. Maybe y’all should just head to the convenience store next door and grab a pint of ice cream for the night.

The man crosses his arms, a small pout that looks cuter than threatening. “Trying to pull a fast one on me?”

Namjoon fumbles a bit, pulling something out of his wallet so fast that he drops it, bending over and almost knocking over some heels that might impale his foot if they fall. You realize he’s holding his ID for the office building. “Ah, no, but if this works…”

The man breaks into laughter, busy catching the falling shoes than checking Namjoon’s ID. He stands again with an inviting, heart-shaped smile. “I’m just playing you. It’s really for minors. Minors don’t usually dress so stiffly.”

You feel a bit defensive, but compared to the man’s outfit, you may look a bit boring. Still, you straighten your blouse as Namjoon tries to get his blush and wallet under control. 

“Can I help you with anything?” The man asks, making way for you two to walk past him into the store. You nod politely, trying not to let your jaw drop. Under warm lightning, there are tables and rows of all kinds of things. A stand of glass in all shapes and colors catches Namjoon’s attention immediately while you are staring at twenty different versions of a rabbit.

“Baby,” Namjoon calls. “Look at this dildo!”

You blush, surprised to hear Namjoon talk so freely despite his nervousness. He holds a box out in his hands, eyes wide and interest piqued.

The salesclerk leans on the counter, shaking his head with another chuckle. “Honey, that’s a prostate massager.”

Namjoon’s lips part, and he examines the box again. “Like… for me?”

You can’t help but snort when the guy laughs, bending over the counter. “Yes. Just for you. But she can use it on you.”

You blush at his cheeky smile, but Namjoon uses his finger to follow the description on the back and mumbles, “Cool.”

The sales clerk’s eyebrows raise, catching your attention with an impressed frown. “Oh, I like him.”

You clear your throat, stepping to the counter. You notice a nametag,  _ Hope _ .

“What can I do for you?” Hope asks, noticing your attention and slinking behind the counter.

“I’m here to get the  _ Pink Pussy Cat? _ ” You ask. Looking around. When you hear fingers tap on glass, you glance down. Despite the smaller packaging, there’s just as many pills in the case before you as toys in the store. Your jaw drops yet again. “Are those all them?”

Hope giggles, squatting down and waving you down with him. You tuck your skirt and sink to the floor, noticing a row to the right filled with pinks and purples.

“These are for you, darlin,’” Hope points from the other side of the glass. You notice cat eyes printed on top of a pink package, the one Hope plucks as he stands again. Namjoon’s by your side, the toy he had been interested in apparently left to be an idea for another time.

“Did you see a Youtube video?” Hope asks rhetorically. “Now if it was the Cardi B one, I just want you to know that ain’t real. I don’t have a vagina, but the girls here said it ain’t that crazy.”

You blush, shaking your head. “My coworker took it. She explained it to me and we watched a video.”

“Ah, did your research,” Hope nods with a small smile. He taps the package again. “Make sure to drink plenty of water and double check the reviews on side effects. These affect everyone differently. You know, you ladies all got beautifully diverse bodies. Just know it’s a natural sensation, nothing too crazy, but you can get as crazy as you want.”

Namjoon hums knowledgeably next to you with a teasing touch to your waist, and you resist the urge to elbow him.

“Sounds good,” you answer, digging for your wallet.

Hope takes the little package and scans it, placing it into a discreet red bag as you fumble with the card reader. Handing it over, he smiles brightly and asks, “Anything else I can do for you?”

You shake your head, but Namjoon pipes up. “I might be back to check some things out another time.”

Hope chuckles, “See you next time, honey.”

You both find time the next Friday to try it out. Big projects finished, no Saturdays to catch up on extra work. A night in and a late morning, perfect.

“Do we need to, uh,” Namjoon rubs at his thighs nervously, exposed in just his boxers. “Do we need to talk about consent before you take this?”

You smile at him appreciatively, settling in criss-crossed next to him on the bed. “It’s not a drug-drug, Joon. It just enhances things. I’m still lucid.”

Namjoon visibly relaxes at that with a couple nods. “Right, right, okay.”

You pop the small pill out of the pack and hold the small capsule between your fingers. “Katie said it’s faster when you take it out. Should I just pour it right in?”

Namjoon shrugs, but he eyes the glass questioningly. “You sure you are okay with this?”

You pause, “Are you okay with this?”

“Yes,” he responds. “It’s just it is your body and you already have to put your body through so much with birth control. It seems unfair.”

You pull it apart and watch the powder sink down to the bottom. You stir the water, throw it back, and try to stomach the earthy taste. Namjoon smiles a bit at your disapproval, and you lean forward to plant a long but chaste kiss against his lips. “You are the most wonderful man, you know that? And I want to fuck this wonderful man.”

“The lengths you’ll go to for me.”

“For  _ us _ ,” you remind him, setting the glass down. You turn to face him as he also shifts to sit fully on the bed. “Okay, now we wait.”

Namjoon watches you for a second, then another. You watch his eyes trace over your exposed skin. “Just wait?”

He’s right. You glance around the room, wondering what to do. So, you grab your phone. “Tiktok?”

Namjoon twists his lips as he thinks. “What about sensate?”

“Sense what?”

“Sensate,” Namjoon repeats like it explains. “Remember when we watched that documentary about Masters and Johnson? It’s a technique for reassociating with each other’s bodies. We’ve got the time. I want to touch you.”

You take him in, fingers hovering to touch you. And while the pill hasn’t kicked in, there is something that stirs in you. Reassociating, according to the show, focuses on learning to touch and appreciate all parts of the body, yours or your partner. And right now, how much he wants you, and that feeling of being wanted as a whole, is its own kind of fulfilling desire.

Plus, TikTok is just another distraction. Plenty of times you have tried to Netflix and chill only to Netflix and cuddle-until-you-are-too-tired-and-just-sleep.

“Can we not stare at each other like that clip, though?” You ask, remembering how awkward it was to watch. They’d sat across from each other and stared as they felt over palms and arms. It looked kind of creepy with the constant eye contact, necessary or not. So, you lay on the bed and pat the space next to you. “Let’s lay down.”

Namjoon debates it, looking like he’s going to argue it has to be done the same way he saw it because he always gets hung up on preciseness like that, but he lays on down, dark eyes both exciting and comforting to gaze into.

“Just touch?” You double check.

“Until you tell me you’re ready,” Namjoon murmurs, his voice deep and vibrating in the close space.

Slowly, you reach for his cheek. Your fingers gently trace his strong eyebrows, drifting to the soft cheek bones, you lay your hand over his neck, rubbing more firmly over the tight muscles of his traps which start to loosen as you rub from the curve of his elbow and back.

Namjoon’s fingertips dance across your collarbones, drifting down the arm which explores his skin, tickling the underside of your arm before his warm palm presses on your chest, heading down your waist rather than your nipples. Still, your body shivers as his hands explore your skin. 

Both your hands stall every now and then, eyes drifting closed, learning what feels good. Seeing Namjoon’s lips part as your thumb follows the dip of his hip, then twitch into a smile as your hips arch into his touch along your spine. It’s oddly quiet and strangely loud with the ruffling of sheets and changing breaths.

Then, it starts to hit you. Well, hit isn’t the right word. It moves through you. Like you can feel your stomach processing the chemicals. Slowly, Namjoon’s body feels warmer pressed against yours. You’d been drifting closer and closer. There’s a slight, interested twist of your thighs every now and again. 

And, you aren’t watching his face anymore. Your lips travel closer and closer to his skin as you let his wandering hands draw you in closer and yours do the same.Namjoon’s hands clasp over your waist. His breath brushing your collarbones. The low rumble of his laugh as your lips brush his neck. The feel of his hips against yours.

“You okay?” Namjoon asks in a low voice. You gasp, realizing you’ve been grinding on him a bit. You cover your face and laugh off the embarrassment.

“I didn’t even realize,” you turn to look back at Namjoon. When you do, his fingers dig into your skin, turning you over. He swings himself over as well, caging you in. Your breath quickens, your heart feeling fast but the blood in your veins lazy and warm. You smile giddily at him, unable to contain the whimper as he grabs your legs to settle in between them.

“Joonie,” you whisper, voice dry and needy. “Fuck, I think it’s working.”

Namjoon smiles down at you, but his eyes dart across your face, checking. You appreciate it, but you don’t want his looks. You want him. You trace your nails through his scalp and capture his lips when he groans, drinking it up. 

The pace quickens as soon as you finally kiss, the relief and taste of him on your tongue flooding your senses. our body begs for more and rolls into him. Namjoon’s body feels hard and firm but disrupted by the clothes, the feeling of fabric feeling so rough compared to his smooth, soft skin.

“Off,” you gasp between kisses. You slip your hands under his waistband as his hands slide into your sleep shorts to roll your hips in time with his. “Off, off.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Namjoon chuckles, fumbling with his shirt while you tug off your own.

“Wow,” Namjoon murmurs as soon as he drops his shirt to the bed. Without taking his eyes off of you sprawled on the bed, he reaches for his boxers. Your mouth waters as your eyes trace his happy trail to the base of his cock, straining against the waistband as Namjoon teasingly drags them down his thick thighs until he’s fumbling out of each leg.

Your body craves touch, his thick cock inside you, your skin feeling like the electricity needs to be pulled from it. Without thinking, you reach for your nipples, toying with them and moaning at your own touch and the sweet release of pleasure. Your eyes roll back at how good it feels. “Wow.”

“Stop staring and do something,” you whisper, feeling too good to stop and too nervous to open your eyes to see his hungry gaze. And Namjoon does. The wet warmth of his mouth sucks at your chest as eager fingers tug at your shorts off. Your mind alights with sensory, hands tugging at his hair as your body curls and rolls at the pleasure of his mouth and the touch of his fingers across your sensitive stomach seemingly icy hot.

Namjoon’s mouth worships your skin, and you’re lost to the world as he sucks, nips, and kisses at your chest, your neck, your ears. His breath pants in your ear, already so worked up. All the while, you feel the teasing brush of his hard cock against your thighs that he rests between, nudging at your skin as he moves across your body but never close enough. 

Frustrated, your legs latch around his waist. You almost cry out at the feel of his cock against your folds, painfully teasing.

“You want it?” Namjoon asks, teeth gently pulling at your bottom lip with a cocky brow.

“Yes,” you plead, the sensation so raw you can’t even tease back. You tighten your legs, barely having the sense to fumble for your nightstand drawer where the condoms are. Namjoon takes your wandering hand, interlacing your fingers as he cleverly reveals a condom he already had. 

You tug playfully against his grip and he presses harder, capturing both your hands above your head as he grinds against you, soft skin gliding against your own down to your wet core.

And god, you are so wet. You can’t remember that last time you were in bed this lost in Joon, not thinking about work or what to do next. Namjoon, for his part, isn’t letting you worry too much, either. His hands wander over your skin, a rough grip holding you down, then curving your spine, and finally pressing your legs back. The stretch is incredible, different from a relaxing release and like you want to push for more instead.

And nothing compares to Namjoon rubbing the head of his cock against your clit. You cover your face, embarrassed by the sounds you make, not able to look at his amused expression. The small tilt of his smile, the flutter of his eyelashes as he teases the head in.

He drops to the bed, nudging away your hands with his nose before kissing you deeply. “You look so good.”

“You feel so good,” you murmur against his wet kisses, already gasping like he’s fucked you raw. He’s barely even pumping the head in, your walls clenching and chest heaving. “Fuck me good.”

Namjoon obliges. Slowly, his cock presses in, and it is nothing like you’ve felt before. Every push of his cock deeper is felt through your walls and spine, like the pleasure ripples from your core, through your flesh, into the nerves of your brain. Goosebumps cover your skin as you shudder, hips already rolling for more.

“Babe,” you whine through open-mouthed kisses to Namjoon’s neck. Your nails dig into his hips. “Oh god, fuck me, please.”

“How do you want it?” Namjoon grunts. He sounds lost, hips stuttering to go even as he waits for your response. When you give none, he pulls back, shallowly thrusting the tip. And oh god, it’s insane. It’s barely enough but everything, those same tingles even in your arms. “Short and fast?”

You laugh, unable to fathom how it feels so, so good. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Namjoon asks, head tilted. His hair falls onto his forehead, a mess from your hands. You grip his shoulders now, watching the red lines follow your fingers and the way Namjoon chews his bottom lip.

“You sure?” He asks again. Your heart leaps into your throat and your body seizes as Namjoon rocks deep into you. Your legs lock around his hips, mind blanking a second as stars dot your vision. “Hard?”

“Oh my fuck,” you gasp for breath. In a second, you felt everything and nothing. As Namjoon pulls back, your shudder so hard you think you may orgasm right then.

But then, there’s the pain.

“Nam-”

Before you can continue, Namjoon snaps in hard again, rocking out just as slowly. Your breath is gone, the pleasure palpable, mouth salivating, but then there’s the pain again.

“No?” Namjoon asks. He goes back to slow thrusts, easing onto his side. He pumps gently, shallow again, but it still feels like he’s trying to drive through your uterus.

And then it happens. That same loss of breath and punch to the gut, but there’s no punch. You cry out, the pain ricochetting down those same pleasure paths, and Namjoon freezes.

“Hey, you okay?” 

You double over best you can, head knocking into his, the spasm going from an ache to a searing pain that extends from deep within you to the base of your tailbone. “Fuck!”

It subsides and you ease out of your tensed position only to snapback into a ball as it tears through your nerves. “Oh my, fuck fuck fuck!”

“What?” Namjoon practically shouts. You don’t remember him pulling out, but now his hands tap you every which way as he tries to figure out how to help. You barely register the soft touches of his palms as your entire core tightens around cramps.

“It feels-” you gasp for air. You wrap your arms around yourself like you may explode from the pain. “Like my period.”

“You’re period?” Namjoon asks urgently, finally settling on holding your hand and crouching next to you.

“On steroids!” You practically screech, twisting the life out of Namjoon’s hands whose shout joins yours.

When you wanted to wake the neighbors, this is not what you meant.

“Babe!” Namjoon whines in concern as you gasp again. You can’t decide if you need to flex or recoil on yourself. Your vagina practically pulses with the ache that lingers no matter what. The energy and tantalizing vibrations have been replaced with a kind of very real electricity that zaps and stings at the most sensitive parts of your body.

You don’t realize timepasses until Namjoon gasps when you squeeze his hand so hard that it cracks. You have to do something.

“Hospital?” You croak. Is this an allergic reaction? Some weird aversion of your pussy to sex? Namjoon’s dick is massive, but this would have happened before. 

“Is it…. Oh my god is it contractions?” Namjoon suddenly gasps, phone in his hands.

You slap the phone out of his hand and shout, “I don’t-fuck- care! Get-shit- pants on and hospital!”

“Right,” Namjoon rushes, standing. He suddenly stills. The contractions subside for just a moment, so you drop his hand. That isn’t the problem.“I can’t drive.”

“I can,” you whimper. Another wave of pain pulls at your lower back and you writhe in front of your boyfriend who looks at a loss. Did something get stuck up there? Did he really fuck your organs out of place? You look up to see Namjoon on his phone again. “What are you doing?”

“We have to call someone!” He says, starting to pace.

“What?” you scoff, then grab your waist around another cramp.

“I can’t drive!” Namjoon restates, running a hand down his face.

“I can!” You screech, terrified of someone finding out.

Namjoon stares back, face blank. “Can you?

“Oh my god, how do you have time to be sassy righ--” You cry out as the pain rocks harder from your movement. “Your dick ripped open my cervix!”

“Can that happen?” Namjoon gasps.

“Do not google it!” You scream.

“If you drive, you’ll kill us,” Namjoon sighs, tapping on his screen even as he comes over to rub at your back.

“It already feels like I”m dyyyyyyy-” your words disintegrate into a howl.

“I’m getting help,” Namjoon clarifies, sitting gently on the bed next to you.

The shift makes you feel like you are going to vomit. Good god. “Just don’t call-”

“Jungkook?” Namjoon says in relief before you can get to his name. You nod, only to realize, oh no, he’s on the phone with him.

You’re poor, youngest friend is about to be scarred by your erroneous acts.

“Oh my god,” you whine, rolling over and tugging the sheet around you. 

“Jungkook? Come over,” Namjoon says breathlessly. You now wish you really could die. “What? No reason. Well, we need to go to the hospital. Everything is fine. Yes, yes, not fine. She’s not fine. No, just-- I’ll say later. No, I-- Jungkook, just fucking drive here!” 

Your cheeks burn for a whole new reason.

“Babe,” Namjoon says, close, holding you upright. The shift brings tears to your eyes and down your cheeks, and Namjoon whines to himself as he fusses over you. “We got to get clothes on you. Can I dress you?”

You nod, enjoying that you can still keep your eyes squeezed closed as you grit against another spasm. Somehow it helps the pain. Holy shit, you are never ever having children.

Namjoon helps you, waiting for you to give the okay on the ebbing of the cramps before you lift your arms to swiftly throw a dress over you. Your boyfriend, ever the dunce, still thinking enough that a dress would just be one easy piece of clothing to throw on.

“Is he coming?” You ask weakly, unsure if you are hopeful or dreadful.

Namjoon wraps his arms around you to keep you up right. He’s warm, and you still feel that odd tingling comfort beneath your skin. You grab onto him with a vicelike grip, craving anything soothing.

“He’s coming,” Namjoon whispers into the crown of your head with a gentle kiss. You whimper, the pain subsiding a bit. “We’ll go to the hospital.”

“Okay,” you nod, realizing you can think a bit clearer now. “I think it’s getting better.”

“We should still go,” Namjoon asserts. You frown, but nod. “We have to get to the door, can you stand?”

You think for a second. The pain feels like cramps now, your body still warm, your face wet with tears. But it’s not too bad. You stand.

And crumble to the floor.

The violent cramping surges up your spine at your daring movements. You sniffle, biting your lip to stop crying.

“Hey, hey!” Namjoon grabs your shoulders again. He tilts you over, a small, curled up ball, and picks you up. God, this would be so hot or romantic any other time. “I’m walking to the door, does this feel okay?”

“It doesn’t feel worse,” your voice trembles as you speak, body twitching with each cramp again. “Oh god, Joon, what if I can never have sex again?”

Namjoon actually has the nerve to laugh at that. “That’s unlikely.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you have a bio-med degree, to-argh,” you wrap your arms around yourself, Namjoon jostling you a bit as he walks down the steps.

“Save the sass for when you can breathe,” Namjoon snarks back, though it’s with a kiss to the crown of your head. “Jungkook will be here soon.”

A wave of dread washes over you at the thought of Namjoon’s youngest friend coming to your rescue. “Don’t remind me.”

The fresh, damp air outside seems to ease your pain, something like nature clinging and blending into your skin to calm the nerves. Another wracking throb goes through your body, and you grab onto Namjoon in sudden fear.

“Namjoon,” you grit out, eyes wide with fear at a sudden thought as Jungkook’s car comes into view. “Joon. Oh god, what if I’m pregnant?”

Namjoon’s face goes white in the headlights before he’s shaking his head, helping you stand. “We’d know.”

“Did you never watch 16 and pregnant?” You almost shout before wailing, the force of your nerves bringing on another spiking pain.

“You aren’t 16,” he rushes, trying to get you to the car.

Jungkook rolls down his window with a wave. “What’s happening?”

“Hospital,” Namjoon answers.

“But what--”

“Just get to the hospital,” Namjoon repeats, thankfully cutting Jungkook off as he huddles into the backseat with you. Jungkook turns, looking like he’s ready to make a snarky comment about being a chauffeur, before he faces front again at the pain on your face.

“Hospital, right. Er, right,” the car surges back and Namjoon shouts a warning at the same time that you cringe. “Gentle, right. Fast and furious and gentle.”

“Do not--” you start, but Jungkook is already spinning down the street. You barely remember the ride beyond wincing and clutching onto Namjoon for dear life.

It doesn’t dawn on you that you are clutching at bare skin, his strong, firm chest keeping you grounded, until you are getting out of the car and blinking against the blinding lights of the ER overhang. The wince makes another hard spasm jolt your bones, and you cry out. A nurse rushes over.

“Shirt!” You manage.

Your dumbass boyfriend had managed to dress you, but forgot to dress himself.

“What?” Namjoon asks, and now you see him in the light as you trade places with a giggling nurse.

You stretch a weak hand as Jungkook rounds the car to check in. You point at Namjoon’s bare chest, eyes opening against the pain enough to at least check that he… thank god, boxers. 

Namjoon notices, hands grappling for his skin as the nurse giggles. You would laugh, too, but you sniffle against the next wrack of pain, sinking to the ground.

“I’ll get a wheel chair,” she tries, jogging back inside. You stay curled over, clutching the back of your head.

“Give me your shirt,” you hear Namjoon.

“What?” Jungkook asks.

“Dude, you are ripped. Pick up a nurse or something. Give me your shirt!” Namjoon hisses. You hear some tussling.

The next thing you know, a rather clothed Namjoon is trying to lift you into his arms as the nurse comes back over with a wheelchair. Dear god, you feel pathetic. You just wanted a hard fuck. Not a fucking hard time. What the hell is going on?

“Your cervix is spasming,” the doctor explains two hours later. He snaps his clipboard shut and stands as though that should explain everything.

You look up from where you are curled on the hospital bed, drugs dripping through an IV, Namjoon clutching your hand and Jungkook’s large eyes peering around the curtain, arms crossed over his bare chest.

“What? Why?” You ask, rubbing at your not-so-angry-abdomen.

The doctor glances from you to Namjoon, so you nod. “Well, the sexual enhancers you took increase sensitivity. For some women, this can make you  _ too _ sensitive to certain levels of impact. I take it you were, uh, going pretty hard.”

Namjoon coughs, rubbing the back of his neck while you just sigh in frustration. “So are you telling me that we got too into the mood?”

The doctor nods. “Pretty much. That can happen sometimes. The pain should subside with the medicine. Your description was accurate. It is similar to the feelings of giving birth.”

“We are never having children,” Namjoon whispers under his breath.

“But don’t worry,” the doctor tacks on with a bemused look at Namjoon, “the pain will subside and this won’t happen every time. Even if you don’t have children, you can still have sex, safely.”

Namjoon coughs again, surprised that the doctor acknowledged him. You thank the doctor. When he walks out, he’s replaced by a jaw-dropped Jungkook.

“This is from sex?” Jungkook whisper-yells, glancing around at no one else in the room. Like he isn’t the spectacle here, standing with his abs out in a room of tired and hungry patients.

You groan, covering your face. Your curled over from getting fucked too hard, your boyfriend sits next to you in his boxers, and your only friend with a license was rewarded by having his shirt stripped off his back.

“Namjoon, you broke her? That’s a real thing?” Jungkook continues.

“Fuck you,” you whisper-yell as loud as Jungkook at Namjoon.

“I don’t know, the doctor said to wait, right?” Jungkook says cheekily.

You and Namjoon both fix him with a glare.

Jungkook immediately shuts his mouth and backs out of the room. “I’m going to get the car… and a shirt.”

Once Jungkook slips out, there’s silence between you two. You hear the hospital bustling outside the door and close your eyes, the pain finally dulling to what feels like normal cramps. A soft hand nudges your own, and you peak over at your bashful boyfriend. With a sigh, you try to sit up straighter. “So, boss, do I need to bring a sick note into work tomorrow?”

Namjoon barks out a disbelieving laugh. “I guess you’re feeling better.”

You nod, taking his other hand. “I just want you to know, I’m not going to be scared to have sex again. And I want to have sex… Maybe we just need to find other alternatives for now.”

Namjoon sighs with a shake of his head. “I don’t care about sex. I care about not breaking you.”

You pout. “I was hoping you’d break me tonight, just… not literally.”

“Maybe next time,” Namjoon smiles, leaning in to rub your noses together. You hold his face close, pressing your lips softly to his. It still tingles, body feeling warm. Namjoon cups your cheek, kissing you back, lingering, and your body flushes at the affection.

“Fuck,” you wince, biting down.

“Fuck!” Namjoon yelps at the same time, clutching his already-swelling lip. He dabs at it a few times. “I guess that’s fair.”

“Not even close.”

“True,” Namjoon admits guiltily. “Do you think they’ve got any bandaids around here?”

You laugh before curling over again. Even when it hurts, you can’t help but be drawn to Namjoon. Into his soft nature, his sultry kisses, or his dumb jokes. There’s no one else you’d rather be in a hospital room with at 3 in the morning.

Though never with Jungkook waiting outside.

And never for this reason again.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Namjoon whispers. “I don’t need sex, you know. To love you. I love  _ you _ .”

You smile, unable to resist giving him another kiss in the privacy behind the hospital curtains. “I love you, too. And your big dick.”


End file.
